Last Chances
by Pallarel Studios
Summary: A bodyless angel, wandering the streets of Tokyo-3... A gray-haired teen on the streets, with everything that it embodies...


Hey guys. This one is kind of OAV/AU, whichever you prefer. It's just an idea I had on where Kaworu came from/why he's half angel half human etc.

Enjoy!

I don't own Evangelion. I own Nadesico. It's better. Actually...No I don't.

**Last Chances**

**by DorianGray**

A spirit wandered, looking, searching for... something... 

Although only an indistinct mist, with no true shape or form, it seemed to look up. Its brother's rotting carcass, or what remained of it, had been splattered against the side of a building. It had been like that since earlier that day, when Evangelion Unit Zero had selfdestructed. 

It was unlikely that NERV would arrive to do anything about it. In this section of the city, the few people that found home amongst these long-abandoned streets were runaways, drug addicts, the gangs. Those that, in the city of the lost, could not even see themselves. 

_ Such interesting things, the Lilim. They would embrace that which they hate and fear the most in order to survive._

The mist, if that is what it could be described as, seemed to shake its head. 

_ No. I must not stay from the path. I must find someone... someone who will help me bring balance to what is left of this world. One that will help me finish..._

_ ...everything._

After long and fruitless hours of searching, the being had still found no one. 

_ Is this the right place to look?_

Amongst these tall, unforgiving buildings, and the vast, empty streets, it had found children. Not the same age as the time since the waking of Adam, this being had seen the depths of depravity humans forced upon themselves. The things that humans could willingly do to themselves and others... and those that willingly accepted it. 

And yet... amongst the gangs and drugs and sex, it knew that it had missed somewhere. 

It glanced, if such a being could glance, to the side of the road. Lying in the gutter, a boy pumped something into his veins with the aid of a syringe. 

The chemical seemed to have no effect on the poor boy. 

The boy shuffled into a more comfortable position, and stopped moving. The being watched the boy, both motionless. 

Is the boy tired? Or did he die? Or is he waiting... 

The being moved closer, and took a form that it thought would be more pleasing to the child's eye.

The boy ran. 

_Shitshitshit..._

He knew this wasn't going to be a good day. 

Finishing putting on his shirt, he dashed straight into the room and slammed the door. He spun around to face the others, who looked uncharacteristically sober. 

"What happened?" 

The older boy of the group spoke. "She was talking with some of the others, then she just collapsed and... lost all her energy. She-," he hesitated. "She... she's not going to last much longer." 

"Who?" the other boy asked, although the pit in the bottom of his stomach already told him all that he needed to know. Not waiting for a response, he broke through the group and ran to the girl on the floor. His sister looked up at him with teary eyes. 

He held her hand. 

"Ka-" the girl started. 

The boy leant and kissed her on the forehead. "Quiet. Save your strength." 

The girl, half-blinded and in the week-old mess of a gang of parentless teens, nodded. It took all her effort just to do that simple movement. 

They sat like that until, with one last, small sigh, life escaped her. 

"No..." the boy whispered. "NO!" 

With a great wrench, he brought her small, lifeless body closer and started shaking her head. "Wake up... come on, wake up... No more fooling, funny joke, see?" A small smile broke through his tear-streaked face, as if his sister would see it. "Come on... wake up... please?" 

The rest of the group gathered behind him. One of them put his hand on the other boy's shoulder. "Come on. Let her go," the boy pressed. 

"NO!" The gray-haired boy spun around, his eyes burning crimson through his tears. 

"Come on, give her to me." One of the older girls across from him tried to take her limp body from his arms. With a last cry of anguish, the boy let go of her sister and fled from the room.

The boy swaggered on the road, holding a bottle of some unidentified alcohol in one hand. As soon as he had left the building, he had immediately seeked out a liquor store and a drug dealer, taking all he could no matter the price. The lights of the buildings were out, and the street lights didn't well improve visibility, yet he knew that any of the various gangs wouldn't be a threat to him. 

Even with all their treatment differences and problems, the people of this part of the city understood when someone was lost, and treated any new mourner with respect to their situation. 

Finally collapsing under a street light, the boy's shaking hands searched throughout his clothing for a syringe. Finding one, he unhesitatingly found a vein and proceeded to inject the chemical into his bloodstream. 

A modified version of Heroin: created for use as a painkiller for dying soldiers around five years after Second Impact; it had merely been a matter of time before it was available on the street. However, the boy had built an immunity to its effects so the dose only affected his shaking. 

When he was done, he dismissively threw the syringe over his shoulder and took a long drink from his bottle. He heard footsteps behind him. He spun around to face this new threat. 

Approaching him was a clean, healthy boy of about his own age and build, and even similar in appearance. 

This unknown boy sat down in the gutter beside him, removing a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and proceeding to light one. From the drug-induced stupor, and the light above him, the boy appeared to have an aura of light around him. 

He struggled to sit up. "Are you an angel?" 

The other boy smiled. "Some have been known to call me that, yes." 

"Then I must have died." The boy said it with no particular feeling. 

The other boy shrugged. "Perhaps. What's your name, lad?" 

"K-Kaworu. Kaworu Nagisa." 

"Tabris. Pleasure." 

"Unusual name." 

They were both silent. 

"So, something bad must have happened to you be treating yourself like this," the angel said, breaking the silence by a long draw from the cigarette. 

Without warning, Kaworu began pouring out his problems. His sister had died that day, his only really close friend had died a week before, and the only solace he could find was from the copious amounts of drugs he was taking. 

"...and she was only eight." Kaworu finished. "She deserved BETTER, damnit!" He threw his bottle into the wall of one of the buildings, shattering the bottle and spraying glass over the street. 

Finally, he just collapsed. "All... all I... all I ever wanted was to have one last chance at doing something worthwhile. You know, doing something that could help someone else. I wasted my life. I..." The boy sniffed. "...I... I just want... one more chance." 

Tabris nodded, rose and started walking. He paused, and turned around. _ This is the one I want._ "Come on, lad." 

Kaworu struggled to sit up. "Where are we going?" 

Tabris turned, and started walking. "To give you your last chance."


End file.
